


Within Reach

by UnitedPen



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Falling In Love, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 04:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14097108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnitedPen/pseuds/UnitedPen
Summary: T'Challa needs to deal with the deaths within his family. Everett Ross is there to help but their lives may change as they spend more time together.





	Within Reach

The meeting with the United Nations representatives was not even a day away and T’Challa still didn’t feel like he was prepared. Since he had revealed Wakanda’s secret to the world, there had been mountains of paperwork. He had been deluged with trade offers from other countries, there had been threats from nations and individuals alike and his own council (which now included an elder from the Jabari tribe as M’Baku was dragging his feet a bit at leaving the mountains) still had to figure out how to deal with W’Kabi and the others who had been on Erik’s side.

T’Challa’s head swam as he stuffed the last of his folders in his suitcase, grateful that his staff had packed his clothes and other essentials. He hoped he could sleep a little on the flight over, but knowing Shuri, she had made the hovercraft even faster and he would get to New York in record time.

“Brother, I hope you have your suit!”

Speak of the devil. T’Challa let his pounding head get one last grimace out of him before he looked up from his bed to offer a small smile to Shuri and pointed to the necklace on his nightstand.

“It’s the last thing, I promise.”

Shuri nodded her approval before sitting down on the king-sized bed. T’Challa watched her eyes follow the late afternoon glow of the sun to the closet that was now emptier than it had been in the last few weeks.

“Did Nakia pick up her stuff this morning,” she asked. It was a simple question but T’Challa could hear the sadness in his sister’s voice. The two women were very close and while he tried to keep his sister out of his and Nakia’s arguments, he knew that she sometimes listened outside doors, a habit she had never grown out of. Plus the last few days, neither he nor Nakia had been particularly quiet.

He felt like a fool. He should have known it wouldn’t work out, that the problems they had in the past would just magically dissolve. She wanted to do more outside missions, spend more time in the United States, whereas he devoted himself to diplomacy that required him to be in Wakanda. Finding time together and agreeing to plans was almost impossible, but when the plans fell through, T’Challa would often wonder whether the relationship should even be this difficult. As the tension grew, they even had trouble finding topics to talk about. And T’Challa would admit that he wasn’t being as open as he could be.

Yesterday was the worst. Nakia had come back from the outreach centre and had wanted to spend the entire day with him. He had promised that but a meeting with the elders took far too long and after all the discussion about a memorial for Erik, T’Challa just didn’t want to think and instead went down to the newly-renovated lab’s training area so only the dummies would have to deal with his emotions.

When he did eventually make his way back to his room, Nakia had already packed her bags and was waiting to say goodbye. She said that they both knew it wasn’t working and while he privately agreed, he pleaded that they try harder.

Nakia argued that she had been attempting to make the relationship work, and T’Challa said he had been too. But then, it was a verbal struggle to see if they could get the other to admit that they weren’t doing enough.

Nakia did leave before midnight, tearfully saying she would be at the outreach centre for a while and then would probably be back in the country to take on some missions. She added that they could talk later and she was sure they would see each other around.

T’Challa had stood on the dark rug that covered the floor in the middle of the room for ages before he fell into a short and restless nap. Then throughout the day, all that was going through T’Challa’s brain as he prepared for his meeting is that he lost another person.

“T’Challa?” Shuri’s voice startled T’Challa out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat and walked around the bed to where she sat.

“She did, but it may have been for the best,” he finally answered, choosing his next words carefully as he reminded himself that Shuri was mature, but still a kid. “You will see each other in California and in Wakanda. This doesn’t mean you will stop being friends.”

That led to a brief hug before she broke apart and almost ran to the small table near the door.

“O, I almost forgot! I have Kimoyo beads for the colonizer. He gave me back the ones I lent him during the battle, but I designed this set specifically for him.”

Thankful for the distraction from the breakup memories and the packing, T’Challa went over to his sister holding out his palm so she could drop the bracelet in his hand. He made a mental note to find a small bag or box for it. 

“Shuri, perhaps you should stop calling him that.”

“No way!” she said. “He never complains during our weekly chats. I think he finds it funny.”

Weekly chats? T’Challa knew Everett had kept in contact with Shuri but didn’t know it had been that frequent. He really was neglecting everyone in his life it seemed.

“Anyway, tell him to use this instead of the primitive video calling he insists on. I’ve been hanging up on him for a laugh but he threatened to start writing letters and mailing them.”

“I will do that, sister,” T’Challa said, turning over the beads in his hand. It would be good to talk to Everett. He hadn’t seen him since the last United Nations meeting and even then, they hadn’t really spent time together beyond when T’Challa had rushed down to Shuri’s lab to find him after the battle, relieved that there were only minor injuries. Everett obviously got along great with Shuri and it sounded like he still had his sarcastic sense of humour. Maybe there would be one bright light in what was probably going to be a tedious trip.

* * *

T’Challa’s hunch was right and the trip only took a few hours. He also barely got any sleep, thoughts about the last couple of months running through his head. He had tried to recline and close his eyes, but all he could think about was the meeting ahead and how he desperately hoped that he was representing Wakanda right at these meetings. The last thing T’Challa wanted was to put anyone in danger.

He was promptly led out of the aircraft upon arrival, closely followed by a Dora Milaje warrior named Mirembe. Okoye had politely asked if she could come but T’Challa could see that she was not in any hurry to go back to America again. The meetings could drag on and there was still work to do to train the new Dora Milaje replacements that had quickly signed up following the battle with Killmonger.

However, once T’Challa saw who was waiting for him in the small room where they had laid out a breakfast spread, he was happy Okoye hadn’t accompanied him. He was never too sure how she felt when he chatted with Everett for too long. Nakia and his mother had sometimes commented during their debriefings that he needed to spend more time talking with officials from other countries, but as T’Challa thought Okoye just hadn’t warmed up to Everett yet.

But T’Challa was more than happy to see him and he went right up to the shorter man, noting that he looked rather good in a black suit.

“Your Majesty,” Everett said, smiling wide, before shaking T’Challa’s hand. “I’m happy you could make it. Do you want something to eat?”

T’Challa briefly glanced at the long table before shaking his head quickly.

“No, I am all right.” T’Challa reached into his own pocket. “I have a gift from Shuri before I forget.”

He loved watching Everett’s eyes light up as he opened the small box and pulled out the beads. Who knew the American would be so interested in Wakanda technology and not to try to use it to his own advantage? The man was a pleasant surprise.

“You can switch them on and off when you don’t want Shuri bothering you,” T’Challa said.

“She’s no bother,” Everett replied, happily slipping on the bracelet and spinning it around.

“Is there anything you wish to discuss before our meeting?” T’Challa asked, although he would have been happy to watch Everett try to figure out the technology. Shuri would probably find him slow since she had been the one to start the remote piloting system when Everett was in Wakanda, but T’Challa knew the intelligent man could pick up a new skill faster than normal. 

“Have they figured out a title for you yet?”

Everett gave a short laugh, not caring that a couple of other people glanced at him oddly.

“No, I’m still just the CIA agent who apparently is some expert on Wakanda and can do missions across all of the African countries, since I know the whole continent obviously.”

Everett’s laugh was more sarcastic before he gave a genuine smile.

“I am really glad Shuri sent me the digital translator along with all the books and documents on Wakanda. And then she calls me to make sure I understand everything, as I’m so bad with your technology.”

T’Challa’s stomach fell as he realized

“Was I supposed to…”

“No,” Everett cut him off, his eyes widening. “Not at all. You just need to worry about explaining it to everyone else and negotiating trade deals.”

T’Challa exhaled slowly. Good. He couldn’t afford to panic before the meeting.

* * *

T’Challa’s presentation went relatively well, although he made sure to glance at Everett a few times for reassurance. Everett seemed to understand T’Challa was nervous and offered some nods. There were a few follow-up questions but nothing T’Challa couldn’t handle, and he was pleased with himself when he took his seat, ready to listen to the next speaker, who would be explaining what information he needed on weapons from each country.

It was almost ten minutes into that speech when T’Challa heard a bang. He glanced up briefly and saw an older man mouthing the word “sorry” as he stepped away from the door. And T’Challa tried to turn back to the screen at the front immediately before like everyone else was doing but he felt frozen. And suddenly the room dissolved and he saw flames, smoke and glass shattering.

Blinking furiously, the room came back into focus but all T’Challa was aware of was his heartbeat. Some words were filtering through but they sounded jumbled.

“Excuse me,” he managed to spit out before practically running out of the room, not aware of Everett following closely behind.

T’Challa didn’t get very far before he heard the sound of glass shattering and smelled smoke. His hand made contact with the wall before he fell to his knees breathing harshly.

A hand was suddenly on his shoulder. Was it immediate or had more time passed? He looked over to see Everett saying something but he couldn’t make out the words. Did Everett know about the danger?

“My father..” was all T’Challa could say before he saw Baba, motionless on the ground. He then shut his eyes tightly to get rid of the horrific sight, the terrible sounds continuing around him.

* * *

“It’s not real,” Everett said, a lump gathering in his throat as he watched the King of Wakanda on the ground, eyes shut tight against whatever memories were attacking him. “It’s OK.”

It felt like hours before T’Challa looked at him, gasping for air but a little more aware.

“My father?” he asked, grabbing Everett’s other arm.

“He’s not here T’Challa,” Everett answered. “But you are safe. You are at the United Nations building. We just had a trade meeting. The building is secure. I triple checked before you got here.”

T’Challa nodded before looking around then glancing down shamefully. Everett then spotted security, a medic and the Dora Milaje warrior standing nearby.

“We are fine,” Everett called out. “I have some medical training.”

He waited until they were completely gone from the hallway before he turned back to the other man, happy to hear T’Challa’s breaths were evening out.

“C’mon let’s get out of here,” Everett stood up and held out his hand for T’Challa to take, happy when T’Challa didn’t let go of it immediately and he could offer a small squeeze. “Unless you want to see a doctor.”

“No, it’s OK.” T’Challa’s voice was a little quieter. “I have had a panic attack before but it has been a while. I may call Shuri. But I am supposed to go back after the meeting. We can just go to the plane.”

“T’Challa, I say this with all due respect, but I think you should rest.” Everett bit back his comment about the bags under T’Challa’s eyes or how the king seemed to be a little bit thinner.

“Even if it’s just for the night.”

“Will your spouse be OK with a sudden visitor?”

Spouse? Everett was confused before he felt T’Challa move his fingers over the ring on his hand before the king pulled away slightly. Of course, T’Challa thought he had someone at home. He had a wedding ring and had never offered any explanation.

“My husband is dead,” Everett said, wincing at how emotional his voice still got, even after two years.

“What was his name?”

No one ever asked Everett that after he made his statement about his husband’s passing. Not one person. It was always “I’m sorry” or “I didn’t know.” Or barely-concealed homophobia. He was almost overcome with just how grateful he was.

“Isaac. Isaac Gomez.” This time affection instead of sadness clouded his voice.

“I’d like to hear about him later. But let me just speak to Mirembe and then we can go to your home.”

* * *

Mirembe had followed them to the house before saying goodbye. She told Everett she would bring T’Challa a change of clothes in the morning and to call her on his new Kimoyo beads if he needed any help. He had asked earlier if she wanted to take his second guest room but she said no and would not offer up any further information when Everett asked where she would stay.

Everett gave T’Challa a quick tour of the bright two-storey house before letting him call his family.

He went to his own room to change into a black T-shirt and some jeans. At least it was more comfortable than the suit. He then decided to dig through the basement and found some old track pants and shirts from his late husband. Everett left them outside T’Challa’s door once he heard him talking to Queen Ramonda.

The next stop was the kitchen. Everett had a closer look at T’Challa during the drive to his house and he concluded the man was definitely thinner. He needed to eat and some sandwiches were a good place to start.

A chirp from his new bracelet made him glance up from his cutting board and Shuri suddenly appeared.

“This is so much better than calling you, colonizer! You don’t have to hold the phone steady,” Shuri sounded excited.

“I’m glad they work, Shuri,” Everett said. “If you’re looking for T’Challa, I think your mother is talking to him.”

“I know. I was in the room with her before I stepped out,” Shuri’s voice turned more serious. “She is trying to convince him to take a break but he’s not backing down. Can you please try to talk to him? Even if it’s just for a week or two, although mother is insisting on a couple of months. Can he stay with you? Is your house safe?”

Everett sat down at his kitchen table once he saw a stray tear slip down Shuri’s face.

“He’s not taking care of himself or dealing with any of it,” she continued. “I’m so scared. I don’t know what might happen.”

“Yes, Shuri, I promise I will try. And yes, my house is secure,” he answered while hearing some footsteps on his stairs.

“I think he’s coming down now. I’ll talk to you later.”

Shuri said a quick goodbye and was gone before T’Challa appeared in the kitchen.

“Everett. I want to thank you for your hospitality but I think it is time for me to go. I will call Mirembe and go to the hovercraft.”

“Wait,” Everett was glad when T’Challa turned around as soon as he called out. “Why so soon? Look, I’m preparing lunch.”

“My country needs me. There is much work to be done.”

T’Challa turned to leave again and Everett knew he had to act fast.

“I spoke to Shuri. I know the queen wants you to take a breather. And I have a lot of vacation time built up. You can stay here.”

“You too!” Everett could hear the anger in T’Challa’s voice. “You can’t order a king around like this.”

“I’m not ordering you. I am your friend and I want what is best for you, but I will not force you to stay. Can you just wait here for a minute? I want to show you something,” Everett waited until T’Challa took a seat then quickly went to the living room. His hand briefly ghosted over a picture of him and Isaac on a hiking trip before he reached behind it and grabbed a small, crumpled piece of paper.

He returned to find T’Challa with his head in his hands, shoulders down. The king was not fine and Everett had to at least try to help him eat or sleep.

“Look, I’m not to pretend to know what you are going through,” Everett started, holding up his hand when T’Challa started to speak. “Let me finish. I have not had to rule a country and deal with so many deaths at one time. But I do know how it is to not slow down and I don’t want that happening to you.”

A single teardrop wet the old, crumpled paper he handed to T’Challa.

“When Hydra tried to dominate the world, my husband was working undercover as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. I didn’t hear about his death until almost two days later and even then, I had to keep working. I thought I was fine until I was driving one day and had to pull over to sob in the car. “

He gestured to the paper which T’Challa slowly unfolded.

“I would have loved to have a break and my supervisor gave me fewer hours but there were so many lives on the line. I had to write myself that note to keep going.”

Everett was surprised when T’Challa started reading out loud.

“Isaac is dead. Your husband is dead. You have to carry on but remember to cry. You can keep his belongings out for a while but don’t make a tomb inside your house. This is an unknown situation. You like working for the CIA but leave if you need to. Find your friends. Hold on.”

There were a few moments of silence before Everett continued, his voice thick.

“I’m not saying to forget about your father or Zuri or even Erik,” Shuri had explained how Erik was Wakandan before Everett had left. “I still wear this ring because even as I packed away his other stuff or went on crappy dates, it is a good reminder as Isaac’s voice fades or the memories with him become a bit dimmer. But I think you are at a point where you can stop and mourn.”

“I don’t want to let anyone down,” T’Challa said quietly. “ But I will try. How about a few days and then I will reevaluate?”

Everett grinned.

“That's a good plan. I think you will find a lead a pretty boring life but I can at least cook.” He got up to finish the lunch but before he could get to the counter, T’Challa squeezed his shoulder. A spark went through Everett but he mentally shook away any thoughts that started to crop up after that moment.

“I will help. And if it’s alright with you, I would love to hear some stories about Isaac. Perhaps I can tell you a few about Baba.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have not written anything in so long. so I do hope this is OK.


End file.
